


the bet

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Multi, Oral Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 18:58:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16898133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: bucky makes a bet with natasha…and loses. in truth, you don’t really mind.





	the bet

“Bet you won’t!” Bucky screams to her from across the large kitchen. Natasha, who is just trying to sit on the couch and read a damned book for once, just sighs deeply.

“Bucky, I’m not going to bet you that there’s Avengers themed porn.”  Her voice, still thick with sleep, reminds monotone with a hint of annoyed. Steve, who’s sitting next to her, snorts a little.

“Pfft,” Bucky scoffs almost comically. “You’re just being a pussy because you know I’m right. C’mon, put a wager on it. Fucking put a wager on it!”

Natasha rolls her eyes, desperate for some peace and quiet. She had just gotten back from a two week mission the other day that ended with her losing about 10% of her body’s blood supply and 100% of her patience.

Natasha Romanoff does  _not_ have time for this nonsense.

“No, _I_  know that  _I’m_ right and I’m going to feel bad because you just told me that you are going to let me  _fuck your girlfriend_  if I am right that there is Avengers themed porn currently on the Internet that is publicly available for all the world to see.”

“Guys, can we work this out like adults?” Steve reasons. He was also on the mission, and had to carry an unconscious Natasha fourteen miles to safety. His right to to read a book on the couch should not be subject to the whims on one James Buchanan Barnes.

Natasha rolls her eyes again, slumping back against the couch. “That insinuates Bucky doesn’t have the mind of a child.”

“Hey! I am an adult!” Bucky protests. He turns to Sam, who’s just come down from his room to grab the rest of a burrito he had bought that morning and had stuck in the fridge to keep for later. His presence had gone unnoticed during the earlier parts of the squabble, and he was disappointed at be prospect of Getting Involved. “Help me here!”

Without looking up from the slightly unwrapped tinfoil, Sam “ _hmms_.” “Get in the middle of a fight? Between two assassins? Both of whom know where I sleep at night?” He shakes his head as he takes a bite. “No thank you.”

Steve looks over the top of the couch with pleading eyes. “Sam,  _please don’t leave me alone with them_.”

Sam huffs, because  _Steve knows those damned puppy eyes are his weakness._ Sam drops his burrito onto the countertop in defeat, trying to keep from screaming at the top of his lungs for five minutes. He stares and counts the stray bits of shredded lettuce and cheese that had found a new home on the cold marble when he threw it down. When he finally speaks, it’s with one finger pointed at Bucky and the other at Natasha. “Listen you motherfuckers, you leave me out of this. I don’t care if I get a million dollars out of this shit, you shits better leave me alone,” before picking up his soggy burrito and taking a large bite as the other three continue to hash it out.

(What? He doesn’t need to be involved in whatever disaster fire this is guaranteed to be to enjoy watching Bucky fight for a cause Sam  _knows_ is lost.)

Bucky continues to pester the woman who refuses to make eye contact with him. “C’mon, Nat. You have no problem killing men, but you’re caught up making some small bet with me?”

Natasha groans, irritated more by the logical fallacy than anything else. “Bucky, those men are literal Nazis. I don’t have qualms killing people who advocate for the genocide of an entire people. I  _do_ have qualms about you using your loving, devoted girlfriend as a prize in a game rigged against the love of her life.”

“How poetic,” Sam mumbles around a mouthful of too much chicken, not enough  _everything else in the burrito_. Goddamn, gentrification can make three new juice bars pop up in his neighborhood in under a month but can’t make a fucking burrito correctly? Jesus.

Bucky doesn’t respond to Sam’s comment. “Just make the fucking bet with me, dude. What are you, a pansy?”

“No,” Natasha replies. “I’m not, I’m just refusing to play this nonsensical game with you,” She sighs again. “I’m not going to make a petty bet with you that I know you’ll lose.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“HA!” Bucky screams, “I got you! I fucking got you!”

“Why are you such a fucking  _child_ ,” She mumbles. Her watch flashes a deep orange, catching her attention. She taps something into as she gets up. “But fine, I have training with some new guys in five. Afterwards, we’ll settle this.”

“Deal,” Bucky concedes, and goes off to go…he doesn’t know. He just doesn’t want to be stuck in a room with Steve, who’s definitely going to make him evaluate how bad of a decision he just made. Everyone thinks Steve’s the immoral, impulsive one, but he’s always been some sort of incredibly-ethical father figure to Bucky. Sure, homeboy can jump out of a plane without a parachute, but  _god forbid_ Bucky eat chocolate from Nestle or publicly support a political campaign.

Three hours later, Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Steve find themselves around the largest television in the east wing of the Stark building. Located in the break room of some of the lower scientists, Sam connects his laptop with an HDMI cord that was way too hard to locate and easily pulls up three separate porn sites and types the same thing into each respective search bar:  _Avengers (comma) BDSM (comma) roleplay._

The first one brings up nothing (thanks, Stark lawyers), but the second and third bare fruitful to Natasha’s side of the venture. Soon, video upon video with titles that range from short and sweet (like “HYDRA GANGBANG”) to long and raunchy (like “Black Widow Eats And Devours Her Cuckold Prey”) fill the screen. Steve’s eyes become wider each scroll, fear now entering every vein and artery, like when a rabbit spots a starving stray dog.

Bucky remains in disbelief, even when Sam can’t scroll any further. Reality sets in more and more each moment, failure tasting dry and metallic on his tongue. “Oh  _fuck_.”

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Sam mumbles as he presses ctrl and “D” on one particular video.

“Told you,” Natasha quips. “Now, do you want to inform my prize of her future obligation…or should I?”

“Wait, wait,  _wait_ ” Steve cuts in. “Sam, how did you know where to find all of,” he gestures to the screen. “ _That_ , and what to type in?”

Sam shrugs, not answering.

_Some things are better left unsaid,_ Steve guesses.

“I’ll do it,” Bucky concedes. “Yeah, I’ll do it. It’ll sound better coming from me.”

Natasha pats Bucky on the shoulder as she walks off to do God knows what, while Bucky stands there chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t speak again until he and Steve are eating dinner that night, the latter unsure of how to comfort his best friend (of whom is an idiot, but that’s not important. Steve still has a duty to be an emotional soundboard - even if the sounds are nails on a chalkboard or several small children screaming at the top of their lungs on an airplane).

“Dude, what am I gonna tell her?”

Steve doesn’t respond for a long time, his entire being focussing on not calling Bucky a dumbass bastard. “The truth? I don’t know man. This is uncharted Dumb Shit territory for you.”

Bucky ends up approaching the subject in the only way he knows how, by catching you off guard while you’re half-undressed and getting ready to shower.

“I…I have something to tell you,” he mumbles as he stares at the floor, avoiding any of your attempts at eye contact. James Buchanan Barnes is not scared of much, but he is most definitely scared of you. You don’t speak, becoming more angry and worried every second he doesn’t tell you exactly what the fuck is going on. The worse case scenarios run through your head, each one causing your heartbeat to pick up more and more: he’s cheated on you with your best friend. He’s cheating on you with his best friend. He was diagnosed with a terminal illness and has days to live. He’s going on a suicide mission. No matter which one is true, you’re absolutely terrified for what’s to come. “I don’t know how to say this…”

You interrupt him, vision blurry from anger. “Spit it out, Buck.” Your hands start shaking, one going to pick at the seams of your jeans which the other strips off parts of the middle of your bottom lip. “Just tell me.”

Bucky audibly gulps. “I made a bet with Natasha-”

“ _Jesus H. Christ,_  Bucky. What did I tell you? You can’t outsm-”

“And I lost.”

You’re relieved he didn’t give you a venereal disease, but your heart rate still doesn’t slow. “Why are you telling me this, did you get her name tattooed on you?” He shakes his head and you plop yourself on the bed as your run through all of the disastrous scenarios that could stem from him not only making a bet with Natasha but also  _losing_. “Are you married? Are you getting a leg amputated? Did you get her face tattooed on you?”

Bucky shakes his head again, a few strands coming loose from his messy bun. “Babe, no!”

“Then what is it!” You scream. “What in the Hell is so bad that you had to not only tell me in a super suspenseful way, but also scare the shit out of me in the process?”

“I…told Natasha that…” He inhales deeply through his nose, and you want to sucker punch him. “If I…lost..the bet, that, uh, that she could, um…” You sigh, impatient. “Itoldherthatshecouldhavesexwithyou.”

_“What?”_  You’re happy you sat down before, because you wouldn’t be standing after you heard that.

“Andit’sveryobviousthatshe’sgoingtoholdmetoit.”

Exhaling for what feels like the first time since Bucky approached you, you weigh the options behind punching and/or kissing him. “So I just get to be fucked by Natasha?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean ‘get to be?’”

“Answer the question, James.”

“Yes, once you are  _fucked_ ,” he wrinkles his nose at the word. “All of this goes away.”

You tap your chin. So, you just need to have sex with a super hot assassin?  _And_ Bucky is jealous about it, meaning you get payback for him scaring the absolute shit out of you? Hells yeah. “Hm…okay,” you say, hopping off the bed and kissing the stubbly cheek of the man you love. “Just let me shower and we can talk about this in more detail after.”

Bucky’s shook. Bucky Barnes is the  _definition_ of shook. He didn’t think you’d be okay with this, let alone calm at the prospect of someone else having sex with you because of a  _bet_.

Bucky stays there, contemplating the meaning of life and all of the possible sexcapades he could’ve gotten into with you if he knew you’d be this chill with out-of-the-box shit. He’s still there, standing in the middle of your shared bedroom with his mouth agape, when you come out of the shower twenty minutes later.

“Now,” you say as your wring out your hair. “Did you specify anything else with Natasha? Length of time, orgasms required, if you have to watch, what-have-you.” Bucky shakes his head. “Okay, cool. Do you want to just get this over with tonight…or…?” Bucky doesn’t move.

_Should he get this over tonight? Or should he wait it out for as long as possible so that eventually the anxiety will just build inside of him until he eventually explodes? RIP Bucky Barnes - died of embarrassment. He will be missed._

“Sure, sure. Whatever. Just…” Bucky sighs. “I just want to be there.”

You don’t bat an eye at his request, simply “mhm”ing as you type something out on your phone. “Alright babe, I have to go meet Amanda for coffee.”

“Oh, um,” Bucky stutters as the door shuts. “Bye, I guess.”

His farewell falls on deaf ears as the sound of your footsteps gets softer and softer.  _Damn. What did he just get himself into?_

Turns out Natasha’s busy on the night in question (who knew, being an Avenger sometimes meant the people around here actually had to  _do_ things), so she rescheduled the rendezvous for two agonizingly long days later.

JARVIS announces Natasha’s entrance before she even reaches the door. As you hear the knob turning your heart rate picks up, and in the distance you can hear Bucky pull up the chair at your desk on the far side of the room to be closer to the bed.

Now it seems the energy between you two has flipped, because your rib cage feels tighter by the second and Bucky’s eyes are ablaze with excitement.

She’s calm as she steps into the threshold of your and Bucky’s apartment. You’d been cleaning since the day before, hoping that it would impress her in some way…or something like that. It doesn’t seem like she notices, more focussed on you than your interior decorating skills and the cleanliness of your carpet.

“You look good,” she says, thumbing at the hem of your nicest t-shirt. Your mouth goes dry as she pulls it up and over your head, rubbing her calloused thumbs over your hips as she guides you down onto your large bed. “Did you make this just for me?” she coos.

“Yes,” you whimper. There’s something different about being fucked by women than men, something you can’t figure out even as Natasha’s fingers curl inside of you and her thick lips wrap around your clit. Maybe it’s something to do with the softness of her touch when she traces around your pert nipples, or the little love bites that turn to bruises on your collar bones. Even when she flips you over and fits a strapon to her size, it feels like a sort of dance instead of something primal.

It’s not that Bucky’s bad at sex, or that you don’t love him. If either of those things weren’t true you wouldn’t be living with him. But still as Natasha slips the glass dildo into you and beings to move it shallowly in and out of you…

“You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” She pulls you up by grabbing at your throat, pressing her chest into your back. “Such a good little girl. Love my cock, don’t you, you little slut.  _ **Tell me you love my cock.**_ ”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Bucky jerking at his hard dick, the sight overwhelming. “Yes,  _god_  yes I love your cock.”

“ _Oh_ ,” You hear Bucky moan from the chair he’s sitting in. You know that moan, it’s the moan he uses when you blow him and he’s about to come down your throat, or when he fucks you and is about to fill you up.

More heat spills inside of your belly and you cry out, ”Harder  _please_.”

“Of course, princess,” Natasha whispers into your ear before pressing your face into the mattress, jerking your hips up and driving herself into you. One of your hands releases your thick comforter and rubs at your clit, desperate for release.

Your screams are muffled by the sheets, but Natasha knows exactly what you’re saying. “Oh  _God_ ,” you shriek. “God fuck!”

“You more more, little slut?” Natasha growls. “You want your boyfriend to join us? You’re so needy. Sometimes you just need the extra attention, don’t you? Need another set of hands on you, or more skin to get your hands on. ”

You nod. “Yes,  _yes_ Bucky  _please_.  Natasha  _please_ let Bucky fuck me.”

“Please what?” His husky voice sends another wave of pleasure through you.

Natasha notices and laughs darkly as she continues to pound into you. “Want him to fuck your throat, little one? Wanna be spit roasted like the pig you are?” When all you do is nod, Natasha pulls you back by your hair again as Bucky steps closer. Just before he can slide himself into your throat, Natasha grabs at your jaw to hold it open.

Bucky moans deeply as what’s left of your gag reflex kicks in, his balls hitting your chin as he moves in and out of your mouth. “Fuck yes babygirl, take all of me.”

Your screams of pleasure are muffled by Bucky’s thick member, your eyes falling to the back of your head as he continues to fuck your throat.

“Oh fuck yes,” Bucky moans. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Hell yeah,” Natasha screams. “Come down her throat, come down her fucking throat.”

It only takes a few more thrusts for Bucky to shove his entire cock down into your mouth and spill his seed down your throat. Natasha keeps fucking into you, continuing  to make you gag around your boyfriend’s cock. As he pulls out of you, though, Natasha follows suit. As she lets go of your hips, you collapse onto the bed. Slow, intense aftershocks cause you to writhe, body shuddering involuntary.

“You okay, baby girl?” You hear Bucky coo. You feel his metal arm brush the sweaty hair from your face as you respond with a small “ _mhm_.”

Natasha laughs, voice all husky and worn out. “Oh, of course she is. Little thing loves being too fucked to speak. Don’t you?”

“Mmm,” you whimper.

“You need something?” Bucky asks, a little concerned. Normally you’re more talkative, and he’s scared something went wrong and he didn’t notice.

“Water,” is all you manage to get out.  _Oh_ , Bucky thinks.  _Right_. Quickly, he grabs a glass and fills it before pushing you upright and pressing it to your lips.

As Bucky places it on the nightstand, you fall back against the sheets. You fall asleep quickly, wrapped between the strong arms of the two most prominent assassins of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.


End file.
